


shake me up, make my heart sing

by blakesparkles



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anti sings, Anxiety, Band, Cuties, Drawing, Dry Humping, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Modeling, Robin is an artist, Robin likes to be organized, Robin thinks Anti is a cryptid, Roommates, Sexual Content, This is something light and fun, anti IS a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14018958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakesparkles/pseuds/blakesparkles
Summary: Robin’s pretty sure that his roommate is a cryptid.





	shake me up, make my heart sing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaleidoScopeOfIce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaleidoScopeOfIce/gifts).



> 'Ello there! This is my first time writing about this ship and this is a gift for my dear friend, Kal. She absolutely loves this ship and I really hope she likes this! Love you, boo! Enjoy!!

Robin’s pretty sure that his roommate is a cryptid.

 

If it wasn’t for a dirty pile of clothes next to a messy bed and weird posters hanging on the wall, opposite from his, Robin would absolutely think that he lives alone in this goddamn room. Not to mention that he’s never seen his roommate in all these three months since university started. How is that even possible? He even tried to stay awake all night at some point, hoping to catch the guy and be like _Aha!_ but… Well, in his own defense, he was tired. Plus, he needs to get up earlier every day anyway because of his classes. He needs to be responsible. Not a cryptid.

 

He makes a face, seeing old cigarette butts on his roommate’s desk, and he doesn’t like how everything is out of place. It’s a relief when the Swedish man looks towards his own side of the room, because there are no dirty socks over his bed. He sighs and places his backpack next to his own little desk, putting his sketchbook over it. Robin ruffles his light brown hair, looking at himself in a small mirror, and he touches his cheeks. The Swedish man hums, seeing dark circles under his eyes. His fingertips are smudged with charcoal so he cleans them with a cloth, something he always like to have since he’s drawing all the time.

 

Robin looks outside the window, seeing the sunset, and he can’t wait for tomorrow to come. They’ll be practicing real-life drawings and there will be some volunteers in class. It’s definitely something out of his comfortable zone, but he’s excited to try it. Robin distracts himself in bed, using his laptop and watching some movies. Occasionally he looks at the other side of the room, light blue eyes staring at that empty, messy bed. He sighs. Sure, it’s nice to have privacy and quiet. Robin appreciates that a lot. But sometimes everything is just _too_ quiet. It’s boring.

 

He yawns and shuts down his laptop, getting up to take his toothbrush and walk to the public bathroom. Robin brushes his teeth and empties his bladder before going back to his bed, wearing soft shorts and a grey t-shirt. The Swedish man sighs and turns his back to the room, curling up under his blankets. It’s dead quiet and his chest moves up and down, slowly falling asleep.

 

“Fuck.”

 

There’s a thud that stirs him awake and he knits his eyebrows when he hears someone whisper. Robin rubs his eyes and sits up in the darkness of the room, trying to understand what is going on. He gasps when he sees a figure by the door and his hands go for the first thing that he can grab to threaten the intruder. The man turns the light switch on and Robin winces at the sudden brightness, groaning. He blinks and, when he looks up at the figure, his eyes widen. The man in the room has dark green hair, pale skin, and he’s wearing all black. Torn jeans and leather jacket. Robin swallows, seeing light freckles and gauges. The man huffs and he squints his green eyes.

 

“A fucking pencil? Really?” the guy says and his voice is higher than he expected, a thick Irish accent. The words are slurred and Robin grimaces, realizing that he’s drunk. “Is that how you would defend yourself?”

 

“Uh,” Robin stutters and then knits his eyebrows, shaking his head. “Excuse me! It was the first thing I saw! Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my room?”

 

“Okay, firstly: that’s just fucking rude,” the green-haired man rolls his eyes and counts his fingers. “Secondly: I live here, you fucking dumbass.”

 

“What?”

 

“Roommate? Sharing a bedroom?” the man scoffs and he kicks some of his clothes away, wanting to have space to walk. Robin must look horrified because the man laughs when seeing the Swedish man’s face. “Relax, kid…”

 

Robin puts the pencil back in place and holds his own face, shaking his head when the guy hiccups. Gosh, he wants to take it back. He doesn’t want to see his roommate anymore. He’s okay now. Thanks. The Swedish man is already not fond of this guy, grimacing when he all but throws himself in bed, face down to the pillow. The man groans and Robin is upset that he didn’t take his shoes off. He sighs and gets up to turn off the lights, and the green-haired man whistles at him.

 

“Look at those buns!” the man mumbles.

 

The Swedish man flushes deeply, knowing he can’t wear shorts like these anymore, and he all but runs back to bed. The man giggles and hiccups again. Robin throws a pillow at him, telling him to shut up and go to sleep. The green-haired man whines but turns around, already beginning to snore. Great. _Fucking_ great. Robin’s eyebrow twitches and he holds back the urge to groan, wanting to sleep as well. He huffs and stares at the ceiling with a light frown. This is certainly not a good first impression, isn’t it? He’s a mess just like his bed. The brown-haired man drags a hand over his face and listens to the man snoring. This is going to be a long night.

  


***

  


Robin wakes up to see that he’s alone and part of him sighs in relief, rubbing his eyes and stretching in bed. The brown-haired man tries to forget about what happened last night and just goes to shower before getting dressed. Robin puts on some jeans and a comfy blue sweater, fixing his hair and placing his art material in his backpack. He looks back at the bedroom before leaving, frowning at that chaos. There’s nothing different in particular, so it still feels like no one was there in the first place. For a moment, he wonders if he imagined all of that.

 

He’s one of the first students to arrive in class, wanting to be there in time to choose the best spot. Robin stays near a window on the right side of the room, liking to feel the natural light against his skin, and he adjusts his canvas properly. He places several papers in front of him, charcoal ready to be used, and there are some oil paints next to him. Robin nods to himself and sits on the stool, looking at the window. The brown-haired man sees people walking and chatting with each other, some resting on benches or on the field. Robin narrows his eyes, seeing a blur of black near the end of the campus. The Swedish man shakes his head, seeing that guy from last night resting against a tree. Maybe he wasn’t imagining, then.

 

“There’s always that asshole with a guitar…” he murmurs to himself when he notices that the green-haired man is holding one, playing it far away.

 

Robin rolls his eyes and he’s thankful when more people arrive, class starting. They practice drawing objects first and he thinks that’s pretty boring. It’s better when a woman enters the class, saying she’s one of the volunteers, and they all welcome her. She’s wearing a nice red dress that matches her lipstick and they begin to sketch when she poses for them. There’s faint instrumental music playing in the background and he zones out, liking to draw the curves and textures of the dress. Robin frowns when he sees that guy running from the window, a blur of green hair on the corner of his eye. He purses his lips, upset that he got distracted. But after a moment, the brown-haired man sees everyone look at the door and he breaks the charcoal in his hand.

 

“I’m late!” the guy pants and waves by the doorway, talking to the teacher about modeling.

 

“Who is that?” a soft voice reaches his ear next to him and Robin sighs, turning his face to see one of his classmates. She has a smudge of charcoal on her forehead and she tucks a piece of her curly hair behind her ear.

 

“I think it’s my roommate…” Robin murmurs.

 

“I thought you didn’t have one,” Signe says.

 

He sighs. “Apparently, I was wrong.”

 

The green-haired man looks around the room and he winks when he sees Robin. The Swedish man sends him a deadpan expression and turns his page, wanting a clean one. The lady in the red dress says goodbye and the class is just drooling over the new guy. The man’s wearing a goddamn black tank-top that shows his tattoos very well and he sits on the stool, resting his chin on one hand. Robin swallows and scans him up and down. The green-haired man has a smirk on his face and he looks comfortable despite so many people staring at him. He has strong arms and a thin waist, messy hair and freckles on his pale shoulders. Robin takes a deep breath and picks up a new piece of charcoal, clearing his throat.

 

The brown-haired man bites his bottom lip and sketches his roommate, rolling his eyes when the guy keeps looking at him. They lock their gaze and the man smirks more. Robin huffs and looks away. He keeps moving too and it bothers the Swedish man. He talks to everyone, being loud, and people laugh at his terrible jokes. Robin doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly here. The brown-haired man has a routine, he knows what happens every day of his life. His presence is suddenly messing it all up and Robin finds himself annoyed by that. It would be much better if he could just clean his room, to be honest.

 

The Swedish man focus on just drawing and, after awhile, he finds himself enthralled again. He draws the man’s torn jeans, shading his hair and clothes with care. Robin spends too much time adding his freckles and the man’s green eyes always come back to him. Time passes and the brown-haired man blinks several times when the class ends, seeing everyone getting up. The pale man groans and complains out loud that it’s difficult to sit still for so long. Robin’s eyes fall down to his navel, seeing a happy trail there when the man stretches. The Swedish man purses his lips when he walks towards him, leaning over his canvas.

 

“Can I see it?” he says and Robin turns the page on purpose. The man smirks. “Alright, alright...” he laughs. “I forgot to introduce myself last night. My name is Anti. Sorry for that comment about your ass. Not really, but… You know what I mean.”

 

“Anti? Really?” the artist raises an eyebrow and the man shrugs. “I’m Robin.” Anti tilts his head and Robin notices he’s wearing eyeliner, smudged under his eyes. It makes his green eyes shine more. “And that’s fine… Though, I liked you more when you’re just a cryptid.”

 

The green-haired man snickers. “I like you. You’re funny.”

 

Robin huffs but he can’t help but blush a little. It sounded genuine and he’s not used to hear things like that.

 

“What do you do anyway?” Robin murmurs, a bit curious.

 

“I’m studying music and I have a band,” Anti places his hands on his hips and grins, as if he’s really proud to say this. “I play the guitar and I’m the main vocalist. You should see me sometime.”

 

“So you _are_ a creature of the night,” the Swedish man says. “Maybe I wasn’t so wrong about you being a cryptid, afterall.”

 

Anti smirks and Robin stops him there when he asks for his number.

 

“I don’t know you,” he says.

 

“We are roommates.”

 

“Well,” Robin replies. “That’s true, but we’ve been sharing a bedroom for three months and just now that I’ve got to see your face.”

 

Anti opens his mouth to argue but then closes it, groaning. He glares and clicks his tongue, crossing his arms as if thinking about. Robin tries not to look at his arms and the green-haired man hums, saying that he will try to be around more. That he will convince the Swedish man to give him his number. The brown-haired man nods slowly, like he’s talking to a child. Robin tells him to at least clean his goddamn side of the room because it’s driving him mad. Anti gives him the middle finger, smiling sweetly before turning around to leave. Robin snorts and tries not to break another piece charcoal.

  


***

  


In the afternoon, the Swedish man sighs and walks towards a small coffee shop. He watches the orange light casting over the leaves from the trees while sitting at a table, sipping from his drink. Robin reads a book to pass time and the faint noises of the café soothes his mind. It’s better than the quietness of his room and it helps him not to overthink. He likes doing this. Robin takes a deep breath and looks around, watching people from the window next to him. The Swedish man hears the bell from the coffee shop ring and, when he turns his face towards it, he holds back the urge to roll his eyes.

 

Anti walks in, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses, pants looking even more torn the more Robin stares at them. The green-haired man leans against the counter and talks to the cashier, mumbling his order. The brown-haired man ducks his head immediately when Anti looks around and he tries to be as small as he can. Robin wants the ground to swallow him whole when the man spots him and sends him a toothy grin. He sighs, not shrinking anymore, and Anti walks towards him once he has his drink in hands. The guy simply sits in front of Robin, as if he belongs there, throwing an arm over the chair and crossing his legs.

 

“You can’t sit here,” Robin murmurs.

 

“Ah, c’mon, roomie,” Anti sing-songs. “We are friends.”

 

The artist snorts. “We are, most definitely, _not_ friends.”

 

“Ouch,” the green-haired man says while making a face, putting a hand over his heart. “You’re hurting me.”

 

Robin’s eyebrow twitches and he holds back another snort, just shaking his head and murmuring that Anti is a weird guy. The man takes that as a compliment and he takes his sunglasses off, revealing green eyes with smudged eyeliner. Robin purses his lips and looks down, trying to focus on his book instead. Anti clicks his tongue and leans forwards, resting his elbows over the table. He hums and takes a sip from his drink. The Swedish man clears his throat and continues to ignore him, hoping that he will lose interest and just leave. Robin takes his cup of coffee for another sip.

 

“You’re pretty.”

 

Robin chokes in his drink and puts the cup down, coughing while Anti giggles. It’s a sharp bubbly laugh that really fits him. His green eyes turn into half-moons and he rests his cheek on his hand, tilting his head. Anti says that he can’t believe on what he was missing, being away from his roommate for that long. Robin flushes deeply but tries to brush it off. The brown-haired man changes the subject, asking why he’s suddenly just showing up. Anti hums again, explaining that he was practicing a lot with his band while also making shows. Just now that they finally had the time to rest in their own places. Robin nods, understanding, and the green-haired man steals a bite from his bagel.

 

The artist glares at him and Anti just huffs a laugh, content to annoy him. Robin is not really mad, though. He’s just a bit uneasy to be around this man, that has to live with him. Anti doesn’t seem that bad, just… different from what Robin is used to. He sighs and shakes his head, smiling a bit. Does Anti really think he is pretty? Or is he just playing with Robin? The Swedish man purses his lips and looks at the man through his eyelashes, thinking about it. He sees that Anti is drinking tea and, somehow, that makes him smile. He is very beautiful and the artist side of Robin is itching to draw him once more.

 

“You know,” Anti interrupts his thoughts. “We’ll be playing at a club on this Saturday night. I want you there.”

 

“What?” Robin laughs. “No way.”

 

“C’mon, Robbie,” the green-haired man whines and the sudden nickname makes his heart flutters. “It will be fun. I promise.”

 

The brown-haired man looks at him, thinking that they barely know each other. Despite that, Anti seems so relaxed and confident. Hell, Robin wishes he could feel like that. He makes it look so easy. The Swedish man blinks and he closes his book, leaning back on his chair. Alright. Maybe he does want to be more present and that’s his way to apologize for being so absent. Robin can’t help but feel curious too and Anti’s aura seems just so compelling. It’s captivating. Or, you know, Robin is lonely and bored. That could be it too.

 

“Mm,” he murmurs. “Fine.”

 

Anti grins and says that he will give the details later. Robin nods and the green-haired man stands up, putting on his sunglasses again and blowing a kiss to him. The Swedish man snorts and Anti says goodbye for now, leaving the café. The bastard walks as if he owns everything and that makes Robin chuckle. He sighs and finishes his drink, without choking again, thank you very much.

 

When the night falls, the artist goes back to his dorm and he’s not surprised to find the room empty. Robin takes a shower and puts on sweatpants as pajamas, refusing to wear those shorts again if Anti ever comes around. The brown-haired man bites his bottom lip and picks up his sketchbook before lying down in bed. Robin draws the green-haired man by memory, a messy sketch of what would be his green eyes and brows. He shades a little, knowing that Anti’s dark circles are more present than his. The Swedish man frowns to himself, imitating the drawing of the man glaring. He hums and he can’t quite get those eyebrows right.

 

Robin closes his sketchbook and places on the small night-stand next to him, turning off the lights so he can sleep. The brown-haired man takes a deep breath, chest moving up and down, and he tries not to think of a certain boy with green hair. But it doesn’t quite work.

  


***

  


It’s Wednesday and Robin is coming back to his room after another day. His last art class was a bit frustrating for him, not quite getting things right. Signe’s words of support during their chore helped him a bit, but there’s only so much she can do. It’s irritating when Robin thinks that he’s not good enough on what he does and he doesn’t like these days where everything just makes him mentally tired. He just wants to go to bed. However, when he opens the door, he scowls and coughs. There’s smoke in the room and his roommate is lying down in his own bed, a cigarette between his lips.

 

“Are you smoking fucking weed?!” Robin groans. “Of all the places that you could do that, you choose here?!”

 

“Okay, first things first: you are being rude again,” Anti points at him. “And second, this is not weed. God, you don’t even know how weed smells like, do you?”

 

The brown-haired man gains a shade of red and he groans again, frustrated with this man. He goes towards Anti and takes the goddamn cigarette from his lips, putting it out on Anti’s ashtray. The green-haired man rolls his eyes and calls Robin dramatic, that this is nothing. The Swedish man glares, nonetheless, and complains about it. He’s been feeling stressed today and Anti is not helping. The man raises his hands in the air, saying he won’t do it again, and Robin huffs. He opens their window and takes off his shoes, putting his backpack on the floor and organizing everything like always. Anti watches him, quiet.

 

They don’t exchange another word and Robin tries to ignore his presence in the room for the moment, wanting to feel better. He distracts himself with a movie, holding the urge to look at the side. He can feel Anti’s gaze on him every now and then, piercing through him. Robin chews his bottom lip and sulks by himself until he’s tired enough to sleep. The brown-haired man turns his back towards the man, huffing and closing his eyes. He hears Anti grumble and sigh before falling asleep.

 

In the morning, Robin is alone and he rubs his eyes to shake the sleep away. He groans and stretches, not quite wanting to get up this time. However, he frowns when seeing Anti’s side of the room. Robin gasps and sits up, a bit confused. It’s less messy and there are no more clothes laying on the floor. The Swedish man swears under his breath, not expecting that at all. The image of Anti cleaning his side of the room before leaving is quite funny and Robin snorts. He sighs and drags a hand over his face, trying to put himself together and start another day.

 

He puts on a dark blue cardigan over a white t-shirt and he’s wearing black jeans. Robin takes his sketchbook in hands, backpack over his shoulder, and he leaves the room. The Swedish man greets Signe in the hallway and they walk to their class together, chatting. She says Robin looks tired and he hums, brushing it off. The girl gives him a look, not buying his bullshit, and he can’t help but chuckle. The brown-haired man sits on his usual spot, next to the window, and he sighs. It’s sunny and the warmth helps him to wake up. It’s a theoretical class so Robin is a little bored again, resting his cheek on one hand and tapping his pencil on his paper. There are more messy sketches of a certain green-haired man, even though Robin knows that he should probably stop doing that.

 

There’s a tapping sound coming from the window that’s bothering Robin and, when it keeps going, everyone turns their faces to see it. The Swedish man frowns when Signe gasps and shakes his shoulder, saying for him to look up. He grumbles but does what he’s told, seeing everyone doing the same. Robin’s mouth falls open when he sees Anti on the other side, tapping the glass to call his attention. His sunglasses are on top of his head, green hair back, and oh my god. Is he wearing a Harry Potter shirt? Holy crap, he fucking is. He waves at Robin before pointing at the flowers in his hands. Everyone makes an _Oo!_ sound and the brown-haired man flushes deeply, shaking his head at Anti.

 

The green-haired man winks and Robin awkwardly gets up, packing his stuff before leaving the class and ignoring everyone. He’s walking a bit stiff and he clears his throat, clenching his hand around the shoulder strap when he sees Anti in the field. The guy bows and extends his arms so Robin can take the flowers. The artist’s heart skips a beat and he frowns at himself. He hesitates but accepts the small bouquet, seeing the red and yellow lilies up close.

 

“Hi,” Anti says.

 

“Hi...” Robin murmurs. “W-Why are you giving me flowers?”

 

The man with the green eyes stares at him for a moment, scanning his face. “Something to say that I’m sorry for all that mess, I suppose.”

 

They exchange a look and the brown-haired man nods. “Well, then… I’m sorry for last night too. I wasn’t feeling so well.”

 

Anti shrugs and smiles, asking if Robin wants to skip the rest of his classes and just be with him. The Swedish man swallows and looks down at the flowers, pursing his lips. The green-haired man is definitely using his charm to convince him, grinning and nudging his shoulder. Robin holds back a smile and, alright, maybe he needs that. He’s been stressing so much over his work and that’s not good. Maybe Anti sees that too. He agrees and the man throws a fist in the air. Robin calls him a lunatic and Anti, again, takes that as a compliment.

 

They do go back to their room so the artist can put the flowers in a vase with water, over his desk. Then, Anti takes his guitar, that stays in the corner of the room, and they walk around campus. Robin points out the Harry Potter shirt, the Slytherin symbol detailed with silver is quite beautiful, and he’s surprised to know that Anti likes it. The Swedish man finds himself talking about it with him, getting excited, and the green-haired man chuckles. They sit on the grass and rests their backs against a tree, and Robin watches him play with the guitar.

 

There’s that urge again to draw him and the artist purses his lips, just staring at Anti. He’s frowning a bit while playing the instrument and Robin likes the melody that reaches his ear. The green-haired man hums, saying he will save his voice for the show. He wants Robin to hear him properly there, for the first time, and the Swedish man snorts. It’s calm and not as uncomfortable as before. Robin lets himself relax and just chat about other movies that they like. It would have never crossed his mind that someone like Anti would share a similar taste with him. He sounds like a nerd but looks like a punk boy. It’s funny.

 

Robin swallows when Anti stretches, t-shirt rolling up a bit and showing his happy trail. He looks away and pulls his legs up, watching the field instead. Anti tries to light a cigarette at some point but Robin sends him a look of disapproval, so the man rolls his eyes and puts it back. It’s quiet and the brown-haired man looks at Anti to see him resting. His face is relaxed, not frowning, and his eyes are closed. Anti’s chest moves up and down with his breathing, and Robin gets lost with the sight. His heart swells and he clenches his hands, wanting to be near but doing nothing. Anti really is beautiful.

 

He smiles to himself, thinking about the lilies. That was so unexpected, coming from him, but it’s very sweet. His first impression wasn’t exactly perfect, so Robin is glad to know that he’s not a total asshole. The Swedish man needed that. He needed some time away from his own thoughts. It can be very overwhelming for him. Maybe Anti felt that last night and he’s really trying to be more present. Robin didn’t know how much he missed being near someone. Of course he has Signe, but they’re not extremely close, and he’s not so open with her yet.

 

Robin shakes the man awake and says something about grabbing something to eat. Anti grumbles but they get up, going for that coffee shop. It’s oddly nice. The green-haired man flirts with him every now and then, making the Swedish man blush and feel all jittery, but it’s nice nonetheless. When they go back to their dorm, sun setting, Robin sees the flowers there and he thanks Anti for today. The green-haired man ruffles his hair and the artist whines about getting it messy.

 

Anti lies down in his bed and they exchange a look. Robin swallows and the man sighs, stretching on purpose this time and patting his stomach. The Swedish man shakes his head and realizes that he was wrong. Anti _is_ an asshole.

  


***

  


It’s Saturday and Robin is frowning at himself in the mirror, looking at his outfit. It’s nothing different from what he wears on a daily basis, but he dug an old black jacket that he bought years ago when he wanted to feel “cool.” Robin rolls his eyes at his own silly thoughts, but part of him wants to look proper for this. It’s been oddly comfortable to be around Anti now and he see the flowers from the mirror, still looking pretty. He sighs and pats his cheeks, gathering courage.

 

Anti said he was going to pick him up before the show and Robin nervously leaves the dorm, wanting to wait outside. The Swedish man’s eyes widen when he sees a motorcycle stop in front of him and the person takes their helmet off, revealing a puff of green hair. Robin’s mouth falls open and he shakes his head, saying he will _not_ be on one of these. Anti snickers and pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around the brown-haired man. Robin flushes and tries pushing him away, but Anti bats his eyelashes and promises that he will be careful. The artist sighs and gives in, accepting a helmet from the man.

 

The Swedish man lightly touches Anti’s waist until they get to the club, which it’s thankfully not that far. The green-haired man takes his helmet off and ruffles his hair. His eyeliner is heavier than usual and he’s wearing a tank-top under a leather jacket. There are chains here and there on his pants, and Robin wonders how long it will take before he tangles himself somewhere. Anti holds his hand and the brown-haired man looks down at their fingers entwined, feeling a bit nervous. They enter through the backdoor and Robin’s heart beats along with the music, so loud that it shakes his bones.

 

Anti whispers into his ear, saying he will be up on the stage in a bit and that he can just enjoy. Robin shivers, listening to him so up close, and the green-haired man pecks his cheek before leaving. The Swedish man clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning bright pink, and he walks between the sea of people until he finds the bar. Robin orders just a beer, not wanting to drink heavily but also wanting to feel more loose. It’s always so anxious to be in places like this and Robin doesn’t like to be around so many people. He’s doing this for Anti. The green-haired man insisted so much that he saw him and the artist is just falling for his puppy eyes.

 

Robin almost spills his drink when he sees _double_. Anti is right on the stage, holding his guitar and fumbling with the microphone, but there’s someone just like him on the drums. The boy has dark brown hair and he’s smiling at Anti, talking to him. The green-haired man seems to be having fun, chatting and ruffling the other’s hair. God. Anti has a fucking twin. Robin chugs from his beer and Anti speaks on the microphone, saying they’re called _Glitch in the System_ and the artist holds back a groan.

 

They make a countdown and they start playing _loudly_ and making the room shake. Anti is grinning, holding his guitar, and he steps closer to the mic. Robin’s eyebrows go up at the sound of his voice, singing with so much passion. Anti’s singing voice is a bit more hoarse and strong, and the Swedish man likes that. The song is great and the drummer is shaking his head along with the beats. Everyone is cheering and dancing, and Robin finds himself enjoying it as well. Anti looks amazing there. Their eyes meet and Anti winks at him. He’s practically glowing and Robin huffs a laugh.

 

The artist listens to them play a few more songs and he’s feeling a bit more relaxed, alcohol doing its work. Robin is thankful that they won’t play for the whole night, seeing Anti leaving the stage with the rest of his band. Another one will take their place but, for now, it’s back to electronic beats. The brown-haired man frowns when someone comes closer to him, asking if they can buy him a drink. Robin refuses the offer with a small smile but the guy keeps trying to talk with him. It’s a bit annoying and he politely tells the man that he is not interested. The guy huffs and doesn’t leave.

 

“Dude,” Robin says. “No means no.”

 

The Swedish man bats the man’s hand away when he tries to touch his shoulder and he gasps when Anti shows up next to him. The green-haired man pushes the man against the counter and Robin swears out loud when he sees that Anti is holding a pocket knife, pointing at the man. The singer has a thin layer of sweat that makes him shine and he’s panting.

 

“Didn’t you hear him?” Anti growls, shaking the guy. “He’s with me!”

 

“Anti,” Robin calls him, “It’s okay, c’mon.”

 

The green-haired man huffs but puts the pocket knife away, hissing at the man. The Swedish man snorts and pulls him by the arm, wanting to be away from there in case they get into trouble. Anti’s glaring and Robin pats his cheeks, saying that it’s alright now. He shouldn’t be so surprised to know that the singer owns a knife like that. He sighs and Anti pouts, wrapping an arm around Robin’s waist. The artist swallows but doesn’t push him away. He has to shout that Anti did great and that he loved his voice. The green-haired man whispers into his ear that he is happy and that he wants a drink. Robin snorts but watches him go back to the bar as fast as he can.

 

Anti brings him a shot of vodka and the Swedish man grimaces, accepting it. They drink it and Robin coughs, groaning while the green-haired man laughs. Anti calls him for a dance and the artist is flushing all over, giggling and letting the man guide him. The singer buries his face in the crook of Robin’s neck, making him gasp. The brown-haired man feels his heart beating faster and he bites his lips when Anti kisses him there before pulling away. They exchange a look and he swallows, blinking hard. He ducks his head, feeling overwhelmed in this place. It feels like Anti can read his mind and he takes them away from there, holding Robin’s hand until they get out from the backdoor. His ears are ringing and he groans, not complaining this time about the motorcycle.

 

Robin holds Anti’s waist with no hesitation, resting his cheek against the man’s back. They stumble a bit on their way to their dorm, walking up the stairs. Anti shushes them, finger over his lips, and Robin snorts. They all but crash inside and the artist closes the door with a huff, content to be in the quiet this time. Anti hugs him from behind, pecking his neck over and over, and Robin’s heart flips inside his ribcage. The Swedish man turns around to see the green-haired man and he looks so beautiful, messy hair and smudged eyeliner. Robin lets out a shaky breath.

 

“C-Can I…” he whispers, knitting his eyebrows. “Can I draw you?”

 

Anti’s eyebrows go up, certainly not expecting this question. Robin wasn’t either. He’s nervous and he doesn’t really know what to do. The green-haired man pushes some strands of hair away from his forehead and he stares at Robin for a long time, scanning his face. The artist clears his throat and Anti agrees under his breath, taking off his jacket and sitting in his bed. Robin thinks that he messed something up but the singer doesn’t seem bothered at all, just waiting with his back against the wall.

 

The ringing in his ears seems louder now, too quiet, and the Swedish man awkwardly takes his sketchbook from his desk. He sits down in his own bed, just like Anti, and their eyes meet from across the room. Robin takes a deep breath and holds a pencil with a shaky hand, cursing in his mind. Anti is so relaxed, chin up and shoulders down, watching him through half-lidded eyes. The Swedish man scratches his temple and tries to come down from his anxiety, sketching him. Anti smirks and slowly rolls up his shirt before throwing it on the floor. Robin pauses and looks up at him, pursing his lips. Okay. Maybe this was a mistake.

 

Robin continues, nonetheless, and he draws Anti’s thin waist. He hears the man sigh and the Swedish man stops again. The green-haired man lazily unbuttons his pants, pushing them down to his knees. Robin murmurs his name, wanting him to be still, but Anti just pouts. He clenches his hands into fists and watches the man slide his hand down, fingers tugging on his boxer briefs. Robin groans and leaves his bed to go to Anti. The green-haired man laughs and pulls him down. The Swedish man falls on top of him and their lips touch. He gasps and Anti kisses him with a sigh. They close their eyes and tilt their heads, moaning softly. Robin’s heart aches and he shivers when Anti’s hands touch him everywhere.

 

“You’re a terrible model,” Robin breathes and Anti giggles.

 

The brown-haired man bites his lip and the singer growls, buckling his hips up. Robin gasps and pins him down, pressing Anti against the mattress. The green-haired man slides his tongue into the artist’s mouth, making him moan, and they thrust together. Robin can’t believe that he’s doing this, that he’s making-out with his roommate. It feels so good. Anti’s soft noises of pleasure are a song to his ears and Robin praises him, humping faster. They pant and Anti throws his head back, locking his legs around the Swedish man’s waist.

 

The man has glassy eyes, staring at the ceiling, and Robin kisses his neck. He likes to see Anti this way. The brown-haired man thrusts faster and the singer whimpers, arching his back and coming undone. Robin moans when Anti slides his hand down into his pants, wrapping his fingers around his erection. The Swedish man buries his face in the crook of Anti’s neck, thrusting into his hand and leaking precum. The green-haired man is smiling, high from his orgasm, and he jerks Robin until he comes. They groan and the Swedish man jizzes on Anti’s hand, knitting his eyebrows from pleasure.

 

The green-haired man sighs and licks his fingers. Robin shakes his head and crashes on top of him, taking deep breaths. Anti pats his hair and the artist doesn’t hate the quiet that follows, just listening to their hearts beating. Robin clears his throat and moves just enough to look down at Anti, blushing. The man kisses him, looking content.

 

“Will you give me your number, now?” Anti murmurs and Robin snorts.

 

“Mm,” the brown-haired man pretends to think, making a face. “I don’t know, I don’t think I trust you. I still think you are a cryptid. Maybe a doppelganger, since you have a twin.”

 

“Ah, that’s a good theory!” he whispers as if it’s a secret. “I like that one.”

 

Robin cups his face and just stares at him. He sighs, rubbing his thumbs on Anti’s cheeks. He says that the green-haired man showed up to shake his whole world and Anti is pleased by that, always happy to cause some chaos. The Swedish man caresses his hair, letting himself enjoy this moment. It’s been a long time since he felt this way. Anti’s eyes turn into half-moons when he agrees to give his number, and they kiss again. It’s sweet and slow, making his heart skip a beat. Robin snorts when Anti bumps his nose on his cheek and it’s oddly cute. He never thought that this man would be so caring and protective. It warms his heart.

 

Robin lies down next to him, legs tangling. They lock their gaze and it’s like speaking without words. It feels like there’s a promise, that there’s more to come. That Anti will be here with him, in his own silly way. They smile and Robin feels calmer, safer. It’s the beginning of something more. Something good.

 

He likes that.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duaZgpjbr-8) Anti plays in the club.  
> [buy me a coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/sparklepines)  
> [my tumblr](http://sparklepines.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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